


Rose of the Southwest

by NebraskaWildfire



Series: Rose of Cimarron [4]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22162861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebraskaWildfire/pseuds/NebraskaWildfire
Summary: Old friends meet up again, this time in the desert.
Series: Rose of Cimarron [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550212
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Rose of the Southwest

Rose glared at the sun as she walked down the dusty street towards her mercantile. It would not be so bad in the shade. She laughed dryly. The only shade for miles around was under the large saguaro in front of the mayor’s house. A memory of the cool pines of Colorado, and another from her childhood of the fresh breeze off of the water in New Jersey, flitted across her mind, but she stoically pushed them back to where they belonged. It would not be cool here for at least a month, if not two, so she needed to deal with it. She filled her mind instead with thoughts of what the townsfolk, miners, and others would need in this heat.

Salt. The Navajo gleaned it from the licks in the valley, but others were not so industrious. Cloth for shade. She nodded. She had some canvas that she needed to sell. She’d move it up to the front to see if anyone would buy it.

Water. That was freely available at the well in the center of town. It was what kept the town alive. There were also mines around that needed supplies, and the natives who often came in trading beautiful items, like blankets and pottery, or some of the native plants, that Rose herself found useful, and had convinced others were beneficial.

There were also some more interesting clientele. Here in the wilds of the Southwest, many men came, some for a fresh start and some to hide. It was said that Cimarron Rose would sell to anyone, as long as your gold or silver was true.

There were outlaws who trickled or exploded into town. She always kept plenty of ammunition in stock, a few choice firearms for those who needed replacements, bowler hats for the dandies, and wide brimmed shady hats for those who didn’t need their face known.

She treated them fairly, laughed with a few, but did not encourage close relationships with any.

She had learned her lesson in Colorado. After several visits from a couple different federal marshals and a sheriff or two, Rose found that she was not very welcome in Cimarron any more. The other establishments were coming to depend more on the outlaw traffic, rather than from the played out mines. When the Devil’s Hole gang was still spending money in Cimarron, Rose’s friendship with the boys was looked at as a revenue generator. When it started to bring the law too often, Rose was not so politely asked to leave town.

For a while she had just given them her trademark glare and tossed them into the street, or had taken out her shotgun a time or two. After her father had passed away, she decided they were right.

She had set up her current store in the cool of the winter. It had seemed wonderful after the brutal Colorado winters. The mines here were still flourishing, relations with the natives were cautious, but not violent, and the outlaws were always just passing through.

As she approached her store, she sighed. There was dust everywhere. She’d have to get Hector to sweep again. He would complain and tell her it would just come back. If he was not such a good employee, helping with deliveries, and had introduced her to most of the folks in the valley initially, she would try to get by with just Marvin. She sighed again, when she knew that was not possible. Marvin was a good worker, but just too young and slight still. She would be hauling all the fifty pound feed sacks by herself.

She was almost to her door, reaching for the knob, when she turned slightly to see who was riding into town and stopping at the saloon. Most locals would know better than to be out riding in the heat of the day. It had to be some drifters passing through town. Or worse. Outlaws did not always have a choice in when they needed to travel.

There was something familiar about the two men covered in trail dust, dressed in clothes that had seen better days. The floppy brown hat with the silver conchos was not familiar to her, but when the man wearing it turned his head, the dusty gold curls were. His brilliant blue eyes shown out of the dirt on his face, as a smile came naturally, when he recognized her. He turned back to grab the shoulder of the dark haired man in the black hat that she now recognized, in spite of the dust and battered shape. The Kid nodded and pointed Heyes’ attention towards her. His eyes initially lit up like the Kid’s had, but then a look of suspicion was visible, fleetingly over his face, before he purposely slapped on a dimple-ridden smile.

Rose herself was not certain if it was a good idea that the boys were here, as much as her heart overflowed to see them. She kept the smile from her face, but started to walk towards them.

She had followed their exploits, as published in the newspapers, for years. In some ways she had been proud of them, even while knowing they wreaked havoc for upstanding citizens. In many ways, she had also been scared every time she had picked up a newspaper, expecting to see a story that either a bounty hunter or some lucky sheriff had shot them both dead.

There had been few stories in recent years, only those that were later retracted, saying it was not Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes after all. This had scared her the most. She had hoped they had finally accumulated enough money to go to Mexico or South America. She had feared that they had died in some remote hole in the West, gunshot after fleeing a posse, and cheating everyone out of the twenty thousand dollar bounty.

“Rose.” Heyes’ voice had deepened over the years and seemed to caress her name. His eyes met hers warily and he stopped a few feet from her. It was obvious that the boys had experienced some hard years since the last time they had met.

“Rosie, come here.” The Kid, of course, just enveloped her in a big hug. It almost seemed that he needed the embrace as much as she did. She pulled back first and looked into those startlingly blue eyes.

“It’s good to see you boys.”

“I hope so, Rose,” the Kid replied. “We’re sorry for the problems we caused back in Cimarron.”

She looked from one to the other. “You knew about that?”

“We came back once, looking for you,” the Kid said softly.

“After we had heard about your problems,” Heyes paused. “And after we heard the law had stopped coming around.”

“But you were gone already,” the Kid replied.

“We heard about your pa,” Heyes’ voice finally softened.

Rose just nodded.

“You have a store here?” The Kid looked down the street.

“Yes. Doin’ okay, especially since I just have me to support.”

“Thom?” Heyes asked hesitantly. One never knew what happened to folks in the West.

Rose smiled for the first time. “He and Maribel are living up in Nebraska. He’s doctoring and they have two kids.” Her smile faded, but then her eyes hardened and she resumed. “I ain’t seen them in years, but I do get letters.”

The boys smiled and Heyes continued. “Well, do you have time for supper with your old friends, Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones?”

“Smith and Jones?” Rose asked incredulously. Then she continued quieter. “That why you all aren’t robbing anymore? That smart brain of yours quit working?”

The Kid chuckled and shook his head, while Heyes fumed a bit, but then smiled again. “No, Rose. It’s a long story. We can tell it to you once we’re settled, and Thaddeus here’s fed.”

She nodded. “I’ll meet you at the café at seven.”

“That’s a good deal?” Rose looked astounded.

“No, it’s a horrible deal, but it’s the best we could get,” Heyes answered. “We’ve not ended up dead.”

“At least,” interjected the Kid. “Not yet.”

Heyes gave the Kid a look, but it was not a glare.

“So you’ve just been wandering the West?” Rose still looked surprised. “Available for every bounty hunter and sheriff to capture you?”

Heyes and the Kid both nodded.

“You come down South this time of year, because you figured everyone else wasn’t that stupid?” Rose took a drink of coffee, as the waitress came to clear the table. She smiled up at her, as she waited for the boys to answer. “Thanks, Mary.”

The young woman smiled back at Rose, who had always been kind to her, and then smiled coyly at the two handsome men who acted as if they knew her older friend very well. “I’ll be back to warm up your coffees.”

After the young woman left to wait on other customers, Heyes took a drink himself. “We were down here at Apache Junction doing a job and rode this way to be able to catch the train back north.”

“So you’ve not quite lost all your smarts,” Rose smiled.

“No, not quite all of them,” the Kid smiled too. “Yet.”

Heyes did scowl this time, but then cleared this throat, and glanced back at Rose. “So why are you down here in the heat?”

“Seemed like a good place to be, after a few winters in Colorado.” Rose paused as Mary came back and refreshed their coffee. “Thanks,” she said to the waitress, but then pointedly waited for her to leave before she continued. Mary took the hint, but glanced back wistfully at the boys, who just returned her smile.

“The mines are still being worked here, so I have a good clientele.”

“And when they run out?” Heyes asked, just curious.

“Maybe I’ll go visit Thom. Might need another store in Nebraska.” Rose paused. “Might go back East to see family we still have there. Might even go to Kansas.” She looked at the boys. “What will you do? If you ever get it?”

“I guess we’ll figure that out if it ever happens,” the Kid replied with a still look on his face.

“Maybe look up an old friend and see if she needs a couple of store clerks.” Heyes smiled, but sadly.


End file.
